Ink
by Kazziiee
Summary: Prompt from tumblr; ink. Bellarke AU.


Prompt: Ink  
>Pairing: Bellarke<br>Words: 1,177

She often traced her fingers over his tattoos. She had always been fascinated by the intricate patterns laced across his skin. She loved hearing explain the reasons behind each tattoo. If you asked her she'd say she didn't, but she knew the meaning behind every single one. The one of a small bird on his lower bicep was because of his sisters love of blue birds, she was amazed by them ever since she watched 'Snow White'. The one on the top of his torso of a date was in fact the day his mother had passed away. He says he got it so he wouldn't forget, although sometimes he did.

The one of a pocket watch on his wrist was a representation of all the time he spent without his sister when she was held captive simply because she was born. He had two sleeves full of tattoos, and although it seemed like one big tattoo, she knew better. Each little one had a different entitlement. He has sisters name tattooed on his upper shoulder, which didn't need an explanation. The one of the rose near his elbow, however, did need one, and he gave it to her. His mother loved roses and he left one on her grave every year. Now she could go through every one and give its backstory, but a lot were silly little things, like the time he broke his leg and tattooed a tiger over the scar left behind, or the time he got a lovers name tattooed on his collar bone, and got it replaced with a black cross.

There was one she found more captivating than any of the others. It was a small, stamp sized tiara on his left ankle. She asked over and over what it meant, but he refused to tell her. They had been together for four years until he finally decided to tell her his little secret.

Clarke had just gotten home from spending twelve exhausting hours in the surgery room trying to save a little girl who had been in a car accident (who had miraculously survived thanks to her and her team), and had flopped straight onto the couch as the door shut behind her. Bellamy was still at the police station, dealing with whatever it is he deals with. She hadn't taken much interest in his career, mainly because the policing system was so corrupt those days that she hadn't really wanted to hear about anything he did. She kind of which she had now, at least then she'd have an idea what time he was getting home.

Getting up from the couch, she decided to take a shower before changing into something more comfortable than doctors overalls. She loved her job, much more than was considered normal to admit. It wasn't like she loved shoving needles and scalpels into people left and right, but because the feeling of satisfaction when she saves someone who was deemed with no hope. It was why no matter how many crippling hours she had to endure, she would always stick with her work. Not to mention the years of university and the money she spent to get such a career.

Clarke heard the door open as she finished pulling on a pair of pajama shorts. Bellamy walked into their small apartment and set down the dinner he had bought for the pair before turning around to see Clarke come out of their room.

"Good evening, soon to be Mrs Blake," Bellamy greeted chirpily.

"Do not propose tonight, I beg of you," she replied, sitting at the island counter top, putting her head in her hands.

"I can't afford a ring just yet. Hard day at work?" He asked, unpacking the groceries.

"Yep, twelve straight hours in surgery with no breaks," she sighed. "The girl came so close to death."

"But she survived?"

"Yes, she did."

Bellamy smiled and came up behind her, moving her damp hair from her neck as he placed his hands on her shoulders. Moving his magic fingers against the knots on her higher back. She smiled with him, letting her head fall as she gave him more room to continue his massage.

"What'd you get for dinner?" She asked with her eyes closed as she relaxed into his hands.

"Your favorite, I'm making lasagna for dinner."

"Wow, it's like you knew I had a shit day."

"You always have a shit day."

She giggled, turning around and giving him a peck on the lips.

"I love you," she whispered against his lips.

"I love you too. Get some plates out for me?"

She nodded, moving from her chair to set the table as he began making their food.

After dinner and four make out sessions, the couple were sitting in front of Friday night TV, Bellamy sitting in his boxers and Clarke in one of his oversized shirts and the pajama bottoms she had worn earlier. She was lying against his chest with her legs sprawled out on the couch. He had his legs perched up on the coffee table and she couldn't help stealing glances at his ankle.

"Bell?"

He mumbled a "yeah?"

"Do you wanna tell me about that tattoo yet?"

"Nope."

She moved away from him sighing. "Please? You've literally kept this from me for years, it's one tattoo, why can't I know?"

He just smiled and continued to look at the TV. Well, she'd make him tell her.

She got up on her knees and moved in on his neck, kissing him from the tip of his ear lobe to his collar bone. She could hear him moan slightly at her proximity and she propped herself on top of him, running her hands up and down his chest, leaving a trail of hot and wet kisses across his torso. As soon as she felt the tightness of his underwear, she sat back down.

He propped himself up, clearly looking hot and bothered from her previous actions.

Breathing heavily he exclaimed, "What the hell, Clarke? You can't just do that and stop."

"Tell me about that tattoo and I'll satisfy you until you're done."

"No way, you're not getting me that easily."

"Fine, good night then," she said lazily, getting up and making extra effort to make her bum wiggle a little more than usual.

"Fuck, come here then."

She grinned, turning around and sitting back next to him. Before he began explaining, he pulled her on top of him and began kissing her roughly on the lips. She pulled away with a smirk whilst shaking her head.

"Uh uh, not yet."

"Okay fine. You know how I used to always call you princes when we first met?"

"Used to? You still do."

"When I met you I thought you were gorgeous, and you reminded me of a princess and I wanted a new tattoo, so I got one that represented you. My princess."

Without another word, she pulled him in for another kiss. Who knew some ink on a body part could be so passionate.


End file.
